


A Hundred Different Battles and It All Leads Back to You

by Introvert_From_Space



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Dream SMP War, Gogy is kinda sad, Protective Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), War isn't fun for him, everything turns out okay though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:53:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27218224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Introvert_From_Space/pseuds/Introvert_From_Space
Summary: “Everything was connected to a war or Dream- who was his own war in a way. He realized there would always be something tragic about loving a man of war. There could never truly be peace, Dream will always be looking for the next fight. That was fine though, because George still had the other part of Dream, and he knew that if it came down to fighting or George, Dream would choose him. Or at least he liked to think he would.”AKA During the duel Tommy panics and misfires, hitting George instead
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound
Comments: 15
Kudos: 539





	A Hundred Different Battles and It All Leads Back to You

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work for this fandom so I would like to clarify that I am in no way trying to force this ship on either party or am shipping anything but their personas. If George or Dream are uncomfortable by this fic or fics about them I will respect their wishes and take this down.

George fell in love with one half of Dream. He loved the Dream that was funny and idiotic. He loved the Dream that would throw flour at him while cooking and that would tease him with Sapnap. He liked laughing at stupid puns, rolling his eyes at dumb ideas Dream had to try, and being chased for a joke. He loved the Dream that was kind and caring. Who would sit with him after a long day, or kiss his forehead for reassurance. The one who’d give him flowers, randomly say ‘I love you’, and describe him the colors of the sunset.

George fell in love with one half of Dream. But that Dream- his Dream- was only one side of the coin. 

The other side was a lot more battered and bruised, it held years of battle and bloodshed in its history. The other Dream was ruthless and methodical. He was cold, intense and cunning. He could take down someone in one shot, burn a village in hours and finish a war in a single battle. He was determined, willing to do anything that needed to be done for his cause. It was shown in the array of scars that littered Dream’s body, big and small on his arms, legs and back, a slit that went from the bottom of his forehead to his cheekbone and a thick one below his rib cage. It was shown with the white porcelain mask that he wore in the company of others, an intimidation tactic that put a barrier between him and the actions he took to win.

George didn’t hate him for having two different sides, everyone did. George had charged into battle right by Dream’s side, he’s acquired his fair share of scars, and has helped take down threats. But for Dream’s he was like an eternally different person. He became so set on a goal, it was like he blocked out everything but winning.

So when the revolution started, George knew there was no going back. 

George started at the kitchen table in their house which had been overtaken, now the group’s base with their kitchen table as the meeting spot. The once visible shiny oak was hard to see under the array of papers: maps of the land and a rough sketch George managed to get of L’Manburg, supply lists, reminders, letters from their inside man, and plans they had yet to initiate. 

He let out a sign, pulling his eyes away from the table and making his way to the cabinets, it was getting late enough for him to finally start dinner. He grabbed some ingredients for a simple dish- he cooked the best out of the group but that didn’t mean he was a master chef- and started preparing. He mindlessly chopped some vegetables on the counter. He allowed himself to fall into the routine of cooking, consistency in menial domestic tasks was something George found comforting in a time of war. 

Looking up, he caught a glimpse of Sapnap and Dream sparring through the window. They were both using swords that were made of wood, not wanting to wear down their far more valuable diamond weaponry. He put down the knife and let himself watch his boyfriend’s movements. Dream was skilled with a blade in a way George could never emulate. He was swift and lethal, he moved in a way that made the sword look like it was a part of him. No matter how accurate George got with his bow, it would never look as natural as Dream fighting. 

Dream made a swift sweep to Sapnap legs, causing the younger to jump back and stumble slightly, it wasn’t much of an advantage, but any advantage with Dream’s skills was enough. He slashed at Sapnap with his sword, not letting him get his balance. He held on for a few more seconds before gravity got the best of him leaving him laying on the ground Dream’s weapon pointed at him.

George pulled the window open, feeling the warm air enter through the window and the heat of the slowly setting sunshine through. “I vote you finish him off,” he called out to his friends. Dream lifted his mask over his head, letting his face be seen as it scrunched into a laugh.

“I probably should,” he called back, earning a protest from Sapnap as he scrambled to his feet.

“Rematch, let’s go. I’ll ruin you bitch,” Dream rolled his eyes, looking at George and mouthing ‘this idiot”. “Oh shut up, I’m gonna wreck you this time,”

“Kill him babe,” George called out trying not to laugh. Dream wheezed, before calming himself. His demeanor shifted, his face turned serious before it disappeared yet again behind the mask. He raised his sword up, pausing for only a minute before striking down hard. George felt pity for Sapnap before pulling his eyes back to dinner and cutting the abandoned, half diced carrots, he left the window open to be able to hear Sapnap’s taunts and Dream’s maniacal laughter. 

Dream and Sapnap came back in just as George started to cook some chicken. Dream still had his mask on and his practice sword in hand, Sapnap followed in behind. 

“Did Sapnap get a hit on you?” George approached the boys as they came through the entrance and into the kitchen.

“He wishes,” Dream said, to which Sapnap only responded with grumbles. 

“Good,” George moved Dream’s mask over his head, allowing him to make out his features and the soft smile on his face as he stared down fondly at George. George went up onto his toes and gave Dream a light kiss on the lips, which Dream gladly returned as his hand drifted to George’s waist. George pulled away, still on his toes. “I love you Dream… but,” he paused looking down at Dream’s hand still holding his weapon, “if that weapon goes on the table or is found in our room later I will kill you with it,”

“The blades too dull to kill anyone, Georgie,”

‘Then I’ll go at you with my bare hands,”

“Oh really?” Dream said, raising his eyebrows. “And how would you do that?”

“I don’t like that you're making your tone so suggestive,”

“What do you mean,” Dream asked, voice dripping with fake innocence and his face growing a cocky grin. 

“You’re right George, he definitely wants to fuck you,” Sapnap added, picking up a pick of celery from the salad.

“Sapnap stop putting your hands in the salad, you fell in the mud!”

***

The current demeanor was so different from last night. The air was humid and felt thick from tension. George’s armor was uncomfortable and his undershirt clung to his body but he didn’t shift, not daring to let his focus move from the front of the Embassy’s ruins. Wilbur and his men were bound to arrive any moment, stepping into their trap.

George felt a bit bad for blowing up the Embassy yet again, it was salting a fresh wound, but this is where Dream wanted the battle and they have the higher ground. A slight breeze rolled in, fluttering his hair a bit, and the sun was shining down, hot and bright, making George glad he put on his glasses earlier.

From the distance, George could make out the movements of several people in blue coats. “Here they are,” Dream mumbled to his friends. 

George sighed watching the men run into the field before them. He never liked fighting or the bloodshed of battle. But this was war and this is what Dream wanted, and that always won out in George’s mind. 

***

“Pull back,”

“Wha-”

“Pull back,” Dream cut Sapnap off, lowering his weapon and turning away from the other men. “It’s Eret’s time to prove his worth,” George nodded, lowering his bow. He began following Dream, swiftly moving through the trees. He could hear the cheers of the L’manburgians in the distance, they thought they had won.

George always hated this about war, winning a battle never meant a thing.

***

“Dream you really shouldn’t-”

“I have to George, I made a commitment, this can finish the war,” George let out a frustrated sigh, Dream could be so insanely stubborn.

“What if you get hurt?”

“I won’t,” George didn’t know how Dream could sound so sure of himself. He wasn’t a bad shot, but he was against Tommy who was young but not incompitent. “What is your issue with this?”

“I don’t think you understand how bad of an idea this is,”

“It’s not a bad idea, it’s a battle and this is war,”

“Dream-“

“George,” Dream face was serious as was his face, staring down George, it was clear he wasn’t going to give in. 

“Dream you can’t duel to the death,”

“I am George and that’s final,” his voice raised, coming off angry if it wasn’t already clear from his expression. 

George couldn’t tell if he was more frustrated or hurt by Dream’s words. His pain must’ve shown on his face because he saw Dream’s stance falter for less than a second, showing how much he really wanted to run up and hug George as he told him everything would be okay. That’s all George needed to hear right now, that everything would be okay, that they would be okay. But Dream can’t promise him that, not when he’s marching into a deadly duel against Tommy. Just as fast as Dream faltered he was back to normal, face stern and eyes filled with determination. So George left, arms crossed over his chest and head sunk low as he tried to swallow the lump that was growing in his throat. 

He walked around the land, not knowing where he was going but trusted his feet to take him away. The sun was sinking lower and lower in the sky, changing the color to reds, oranges and purples, but George didn’t bother to look, it was all the same to him. As he walked he let his mind wander. He tried not to think of the war, but his mind came full circle eventually, it felt like everything came back to battle. 

Everything was connected to a war or Dream- who was his own war in a way. He was a mix of two sides and a raging fire and a calm body of water; so very contradictory. Dream could say he was fighting this war for a hundred different reasons- to protect them, to regain land, etc.- but George knew the real reason, he was doing it, because he loves the battle. He loves the strategy and he loved the power of winning. He realized there would always be something tragic about loving a man of war. There could never truly be peace, Dream will always be looking for the next fight. That was fine though, because George still had the other part of Dream, and he knew that if it came down to fighting or George, Dream would choose him. Or at least he liked to think he would.

***

George and Dream didn’t talk the morning before the duel. It was probably for the best, even if it hurt to avoid Dream while walking around the house. George didn’t want to fight though, not with the outcome today could have.

As the sun began to set the boys wordlessly packed up their supplies and walked to the designated dueling grounds. The walk was silent, only the sounds of grass beneath their feet and an occasional comment by Sapnap. 

They arrived seeing the men of L’Manburge ready. George and Sapnap stopped on the slight hill next to the wood path and Dream paused for a second to look at his friends.

“Good luck man,”

“Thanks Sap,” He began walking off again before George called out and stopped him.

“Dream?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t die,” Dream nodded seriously before moving to the planks.

***

Tommy panicked after missing his first shot, reaching for any extra arrow he had while attempting dodging Dream’s first shot. He had knocked his second arrow, frantically trying to aim it, when Dream had shot his second shot. It scrapped Tommy, grabbing his left forearm, and he released the arrow he planned to fire, still not aimed at its original target, but off to the side. Suddenly, everything was going too fast and too slow. There wasn’t enough time to move, only to watch the projectile fly to Dream’s left and headed straight at George.

George wondered what death was like, everyone did once they were old enough. One theory was that we were all already dying and this was our lives flashing before our lives, he didn’t know where that idea came from, he read it in a book long ago, but it was wrong. George’s life was flashing before his eyes right now and it was so very different. It felt as if his brain was in overdrive, trying to recall everything as if it was the last time he could.

The arrow entered him on the left side of his stomach. He couldn't really tell at first with his body so pumped with adrenaline, the only way he knew it had happened was the yells and warmblood seeping into his shirt. 

His breath picked up as the pain slowly spreading throughout his body. He was beginning to feel faint and it was getting hard to keep his legs from collapsing under him. Gravity felt as if it was pushing harder onto him as his legs grew weaker and he finally gave in to his own weight. He didn’t fall, however, he felt strong arm and callused hands catch him. A faint smile traced his lips from the comfort of Dream’s hold, his mind fading off before realizing Dream was talking to him, it was hard to make out what he was saying over the buzzing in his ears.

“George? Can you hear me?” his voice was on the verge of a cry and was laced with desperation.

“Yeah,” his voice was hoarse and he didn’t notice how dry his throat felt until now. 

“Okay good, you’re gonna be okay. You just need to stay awake,”

“But I’m tired,”

“I know. I know,”

“It- It hurts,” his voice broke. The pain was everywhere now almost eating him alive.

“Focus on me Georgie, don’t focus on the pain,” He wanted to but everything seemed a bit fuzzy, like all his senses were dulled down. His vision was going blurry and the buzzy in his ears had faded, making it sound as if he was underwater listening to people shout from the surface far far away. 

“I love you Dream,”

“Tell me later, your not gonna die,”

“I just- I figured if this is it you should hear me say that,” Tears fell from his eyes.

“I love you too, but this isn’t it for us okay. You aren’t done yet,”

“I don’t want to, I don’t want to-” His voice was quiet but still echoed in his head. He was so tired, Dream would understand if he closed his eyes for a second. All he needed was a second to escape this pain.

Just one second…

***

“Hey Georgie,” Dream walked into the room. He knew he was talking to no one, George had remained motionless on their bed for almost two days now, but he continued on anyway. “I went for a walk. As much as I hate to admit it, Sapanap’s right, I can’t stay in here forever. I just feel bad, for leaving you alone. I know if I was laying there you’d probably refuse to do anything until I was better, but Bad said you’d probably be angrier if you found out I didn’t take care of myself, and you’re terrifying when you’re angry so…,” his voice trailed off, feeling the knot in his throat grow.

“I’ve said it so many times, but I am so sorry. You were right, god you’re always right aren’t you,” he said through a watery laugh. He wiped at his eyes, ridding them of his forming tears. “I shouldn’t have agreed to that stupid duel. It didn’t help, it didn’t change anything, all it did was get you hurt. I wasn’t going to kill Tommy, I was going to shoot him in the arm to get the point across. I wasn’t going to kill him, and I wasn’t going to let him kill me. I didn’t- I didn’t even consider you in the crossfire. I’m so sorry Georgie, I’m- this never should’ve happened,” Warm tears fell from his eyes and he didn’t even try to stop them this time, it had been a while since he let himself cry and he needed it. 

After his tears were finished and dried themselves on his cheeks he stood up from kneeling near the bed. He placed the blue flower he almost forgot he had on the bedside table next to the glass of water from this morning. He picked it up on his walk and he knew how much George liked to stare at them when they walked to the river. “I’ll get you a new glass of water okay,”

***

Everything was black. George felt weightless, he was floating in the dark blissfully unaware of anything but the warm and comfort of his environment. His thoughts felt blurred, he couldn’t remember anything but foggy images of his places and people and Dream. 

Dream. Why did that name spark a small fire in his heart and weigh down on his chest? Dream. He liked that name, it reminded him of laughter and colors. It reminded him of fire, warmth, and passion. It felt like the calm and the storm at the same time. It’s strange that a name could do that, especially when his mind was too confused to remember exactly who he was. All George could make out was he was everything, and that was enough to know for now.

He continued to let his mind and body drift. Thinking of things he should remember, people and places he should recognize, and why he was here in the first place. 

George finally came to his senses. It was like everything hit him at once, the friends, the war, the arrow, the cries, the pain. Overwhelmed by the mass amount of information flooding his system he was pulled out of his comfort and yanked into reality.

He shot up quickly, his body too panicked to register the sharp pain that traveled up his side in doing so. He turned his head trying to survey where he was and how he got there. He let himself relax, he was in his and Dream’s room in bed curled under several blankets- which he was grateful for, pulling them closer to himself to barricade the cold air. Although they were hidden by his shirt, he could feel the bandages wrapped around his torso. Light streamed from the window and it looked to be morning. George could hear the faint buzz of insects and birds singing outside from afar. He tried to move, to lay back down on his warm bed and sleep again, but in trying to do so sharp pain ran through him. It caught his breath for a moment, nerves overwhelmed, and he remained frozen propped on his elbows trying to overcome the wave of nausea that churned his stomach. 

He looked around the room, wondering where his friends had gone to. He noticed two glasses of water, one that was poured recently and had ice cubes and the other half empty from some time ago. Next to those was a small blue flower that George recognized from the open plains near a local river, one he always pointed out to Dream when they would walk. 

He hoped Dream didn’t blame himself for this, it was all a matter of circumstance and George would never blame him. What did Dream always say when he got hurt ‘it’s war’?

And with that, the door creaked George snapped his head to see green eyes peeking through a small gap in the door. His and Dream’s eyes met and Dream opened the door slowly walking over to the bedside by George. He looked tired and worry lines were even more prominent on his face but his small smile held signs of relief. “Hey Georgie,” Dream kneeled down beside him and intertwined their hands.

“Hey,”

“You scared me back there, we didn’t-” he cleared his throat. “We didn’t know if you would make it,”

“Yeah, but I’m fine. At least you're okay,” Dream looked like he wanted to argue, that it didn’t matter if he was okay if George wasn’t, but he let it go because George was right he was going to be fine

“The war’s over, Tommy traded his discs for L’Manburg’s independence,”

“That’s good,” George’s brain was still foggy from sleep to fully comprehend that it was totally over, no more battles or close calls. “We can relax now,”

“Yeah, we can relax now Georgie,”

**Author's Note:**

> ANGST
> 
> I simp for protective/worried dream so I had to do this. This was supposed to be a short, thousand-word one-shot oops. First fic in this fandom so let me know if it sucks (especially because I might do a multichapter thing an dnned to know if they're really out of character).
> 
> Love y'all!


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